


Dream Team

by thesummerstorms



Category: Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: Bonding under pressure, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesummerstorms/pseuds/thesummerstorms
Summary: A series of scenes over which Besany Wennen learns to stop thinking of Jedi General Etain Tur-Mukan as "that woman who shot me" and start thinking of her as a friend.Possibly vignettes, possibly case fic, it's too early to tell at this point. Please note that this fic is very much still developing and is written just for the author's pleasure. Criticism, while well-meant, is not wanted.





	Dream Team

Besany had never heard of a Jedi getting involved with Treasury IAD before.

There were Jedi investigators, she knew, or there had been before the war turned them all to generals. And she’d heard stories, most of them likely apocryphal, of reckless Jedi warriors single handedly bringing down drug kings or illegal indenture rings in the lower levels. So the stories said. Besany had a feeling that among all the Investigation and Audit staff, was likely the only one to ever meet one of the legendary Knights face to face, much less to come across one in the middle of her own work. The rest of the department had probably been confined to HoloNews glimpses and bad drama videos, the same as the rest of working-class Coruscant. Or, rather, they had been until now.

 _But what does the Jedi Order want with a Treasury investigator_? Besany wondered. She hurried along the corridor after the harried looking clerk, shoving her datapad further down in her satchel beside the rattle she’d bought for baby Venku. For all the Order’s reputation for righting wrongs and cutting through deceptions, they never involved themselves in the vast web of embezzlement, bribes, and kickbacks that Besany had spent most of her career cutting through.  It seemed too earthy a consideration for an organization with their mythic reputation…

Or maybe they were as dependent on government funds as any other institution of the State, and had wisely decided to keep their hands clear.

In any case, if Jedi didn’t normally involve themselves in Republic finances, then it stood to reason that something was up. She didn’t think it likely that a Jedi Knight was going to show up in her offices looking for the funding source of some smuggling ring or slippery Hutt, and if they had, they would have gone to Jilka, not an internal auditor.

_They asked for me by name._

“Thel,” Besany asked as the lift doors pinged open back to the main floor, smoothing her worry into cool annoyance and squaring her shoulders, “How long has the Jedi been here? Did they give you any indication what this is all about?”

The clerk paused and blinked, as if trying to decide precisely how much he could say. Normally he wasn’t so hesitant.

“Since- well, a while. I thought about offering to make a cafacho or something, but something tells me the Order’s in a hurry with this. Whatever this is.”

_Whatever indeed._

Besany could see Jilka peering dubiously at them through a nearby office window, her face swallowed by her frown. This unexpected visit would already be striking rumors like flint to dry kindling. It was just as well that she made a point of deleting the files she transmitted to Skirata before returning from her lunch – but any investigator worth their salt would still be able to examine which files she had accessed.

She wasn’t sure that it made any more sense for a Jedi to investigate _her_ than it did for them to be involved in something requiring her access to the internal audits. The government had people for that. On those rare occasions she’d allowed herself to imagine she might be captured, she’d always pictured some drab government agent in a suit not unlike her own who was holding the manacles.

But then, outside of the war effort and the occasional story of derring-do, who really knew what the Jedi did when left to their own devices?

One thing was for certain, though. If she was about to meet with a Jedi investigator, the last thing she needed to do was panic. Ordo had told her it wasn’t like the stories, exactly- Jedi couldn’t just rip thoughts from your mind wholesale- but it wouldn’t help her if her fear of being discovered raised the suspicion that she was hiding something either.

She took a small, deep breath, focusing on that seed of annoyance and willing it to settle the would-be tremors in her hands. “Well, I’m in a hurry, too. I still need to track down that authorization code in the mess that passes for the auxiliary corps’ service budget. Hopefully this will be a quick meeting, and we can all get on with our jobs.”

She brushed past Thel toward her office without waiting for a reply. The shades had been drawn, and the door closed, as if someone had wanted to barricade her away from her own desk. She steeled herself, holding on to annoyance and ignoring her escalated heartbeat, pushing through the door-

-only to freeze at what, or rather who she saw.

The Jedi spilling dust all over Besany’s good synthleather office chair smiled at her, then stood. “Agent Wennen, it has been a while. I apologize for not giving you more notice I was coming, but it was urgent. Would you mind closing the door?”

Recovering, Besany did as asked, eyeing her guest all the same. The last time they had met, the other woman had been in plainclothes. Capable, still, especially when armed - and didn’t Besany still wince at _that_ memory- but seeing her here, dressed in dented white armor and robes that had seen better days, was the last thing Besany had expected.

“Are you going to shoot me again?” Besany asked.

And, Force help them all, General Etain Tur-Mukan _blushed_.

“I wondered if you remembered me.”

“A PEP laser burn is a hard thing to forget.”

If it was possible, Etain’s face got pinker behind her freckles. “I’m sorry. I’m not carrying a blaster this time, if it helps. I left the LJ-50 in the armory back at Arca.” She picked at the hem of her sleeve, then slowly held both hands up, palms out and fingers outstretched. The gesture was oddly incongruous with the modified trooper’s armor and the lightsabers hanging from her belt. “Really, I am sorry for … all of that.”

Besany tilted her head in acknowledgment, choosing to ignore, for the moment, the fact that even one lightsaber would be deadlier than any blaster. “Captain Ordo brought me your letter.” By the time she had been able to begin to think of how to reply to that letter, full of awkward contrition, the window seemed to have passed, but she _had_ received it. The real question was what Etain wanted with her _now_.

Besany’s first irrational thought- perhaps spurred by the rattle and the half-hour spent gazing at baby toys over her lunch break- was that it was something to do with _Kad’ika_. But Etain hardly would have drawn this much attention just to cancel Besany’s babysitting services, and if something had happened, the Jedi would have been with her son if at all possible.

More likely, it had something to do with Kal Skirata and his mission to scam the Republic into funding care for the clone troopers it had created. But if so, that still didn’t explain why Etain would take the risk of coming here in person.

Maybe Jedi really could read minds, or maybe she was just doing a poor job of keeping the doubt from her face, because Etain made that same placating gesture again, her shoulders slanted in apology. “I know you’re incredibly busy, but there are some … well, some _concerns_ I was hoping you could help me put to rest. Maybe just a few odd numbers, maybe just some scraps of code, but they were flagged for General Zey’s attention. Most of the Order’s specialists are deployed, and it seems more civilian than military, but Zey remembered you from the reports and asked if you were trustworthy. I assured him you were.”

The young woman was a good enough actor- she had to have been, to have been on that previous mission of Skirata’s- but Besany was practiced enough to hear the emphasis on _concerns_ , however General Tur-Mukan tried to downplay the situation for anyone listening in. And the part about the other Jedi’s involvement- that didn’t exactly ring hollow either.

Great. So now the Director of Special Forces - _Ordo’s boss_ \- was involved in whatever this was in some capacity. Possibly in a supervisory capacity, keeping an eye on them both, if that hadn’t just been some way for Etain to deflect from the strength of their mutual connections.

Still mentally running through the scenarios and finding none much to her pleasing, Besany nodded. Whatever this was, it was going to be a mess. She just knew it.

“Of course, General. I’m always happy to assist the Jedi,” she lied, wanting no part of it, and knowing all the same that it would be inescapable.

Etain smiled faintly and the silence between them stretched, long and too thin. Besany waited. Etain considered the cute, tacky, animal-shaped mug on Besany’s desk for longer than was necessary. Then, as if finally realizing she was monopolizing the sole chair, leaving Besany standing on the wrong side of the desk, the Jedi leapt to her feet.

“I know it’s inconvenient, but Master Zey has already put in for your temporary clearance, and that should be enough to get you out of the building for the rest of the day. I had to rush here as soon as the _Coronation_ could set down, but there should be a secure site already prepared for us.” Etain was already opening the door, clearly intent on answering questions later, so Besany grabbed her cloak and handbag.

There were surgical droids less precise than Jilka’s steely gaze, but Besany followed Etain out into courtyard where a nondescript silver speeder was waiting. Etain took the controls, peeling out and upwards into the nearest skylane with a little too much gusto, and they flew in relevant silence. It wasn’t until they were several blocks away from the Treasury building and Etain sat, waiting to turn into a lane Besany knew would eventually double back in the direction of Kal Skirata’s apartment, that the knot in her throat began to loosen, but not dissipate.

“Really,” Etain said finally, “I wouldn’t have dragged you out in front of all of those people if it wasn’t necessary. I’m sorry.”

“Has something happened? Are Ordo and Kal-”

“Ordo’s fine. They don’t know I’m here yet. I wasn’t lying though. You and I need to work together. Otherwise, I think we might all be kriffed.”


End file.
